"Cindy," Max said cautiously. "Why are we going to Jam Pony?" she asked, recognizing the way to the building. Renfro often used the services of Jam Pony, and when Sketchy and Max were little, Renfro usually had to take them with her to run errands. Original Cindy whirled on Max.
"You ain't nevah been to Jam Pony before?" she asked. Max shook her head.
"I mean, I've got a friend who works there and Renfro used to drag us there so that she could get stuff delivered, but I've never seen the inside of it."
"Well," OC continued. "Original Cindy used to work there, and she can tell you there's a whole lotta bossy goin' down in that building."
"Why'd you quit?" Max asked. Cindy shrugged.
"I realized that freedom is a long and lonely path away from stagnation in that place... and I did it for a girl." She smiled. "Liesl. She was German - had this curly blonde hair and legs up to here," she gestured to her neck.
"We're entering the "too much share" zone, here, OC," Max said uncomfortably. Original Cindy grinned.
"Sorry. Anyways, I had to dump her anyways because she was starting to send moon-eyes towards Alec. Then he bonked her, sent her out the door and we never heard from her again. Well, we did... only on message machines."
Max wrinkled her nose. "Talk about 'all in the family'."
Cindy's eyes were glazed over. "Liesl," she thought outloud. "Damn, she was fine!"
"For the love of God, Cindy, keep your eyes on the road!" Original Cindy snapped back into reality, saw the bicycle messenger in front of her, and braked - all in one smooth, fluid split second. The brakes screeched, rubber burned, and still, the car smashed into the messenger's bike.
Max looked at Cindy in fear. She was starting to get an idea why Cindy had been banned from driving.
And then followed The Dance.
"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE WITH THE WAY YOU WERE DRIVING!"
"ME? KILL SOMEONE? I HAVE COMPLETE CONTROL OVER THAT CAR OUT THERE! IT'S YOU WHO NEEDS TO SLOW DOWN AROUND THE CROSSINGS!"
"OH HELL NO!"
Renfro had gotten into a variety of car accidents during Max's life. She was only ever brought to justice for two of them.
She'd gotten into so many shouting fights with the victim, that Sketchy had began calling the whole process "The Dance". It started out with a cataclyst (the car accident), the rising tension (the three minutes after the car accident in which everyone was usually getting out of the car and looking at the damage), the sudden stillness (the shock and sometimes, whiplash), and then came the action (the actual shouting), soon followed by resolution.
Nevermind that The Dance was more reminicent of a bookplot, because Sketchy had completely skipped out on English classes for two or three years (which was why he was only two years younger than Max and still a frosh) - either way, The Dance was The Dance and it wasn't going to change unless Sketchy somehow found out what the plot of a book consisted of.
"NORMAL!" the blonde messenger shouted upon reaching Jam Pony, her poor, injured bike clutched in one fist.
"Oh for the love of Mike, what have you gotten yourself into now, CeCe?" The man named Normal asked.
Normal was a tall, extremely normal-looking guy - or he would be extremely normal. If he weren't in so much pleather, that was. He eyed her bike. "That's three bikes in one month!"
"She hit me!" CeCe screamed. "She fucking hit my bike -"
"Keep that cursing down," Normal ordered. "This isn't Kings of Comedy."
CeCe took a breath. "She hit my bike and now she's trying to worm her way out of it!"
"Were you hurt?" Normal asked.
"No," CeCe said.
"Well, then go deliver your packages on foot! Bip bip bip!" he shouted. He saw Cindy (who'd hung back to try and learn how to correctly lock the doors on the Lamborghini) enter the building. "And what brings you back to Jam Pony? You here to beg for your job back? Well, sorry, sister, we're full up." He turned to Max. "How can I help you?"
"I didn't come to beg for my good-for-nothin'-pays-like-shit job back," Cindy corrected him. "I came 'cuz she," she pointed to CeCe, "hit my car."
Normal closed his eyes and whispered something to himself. "I hope the both of you find a nice desk job some day where you won't hurt any of the unsuspecting population," he said outloud to them.
"Well, since that isn't for a long few years away," CeCe said. "Can you decide where the money's going over here?"
Normal, his eyes still tightly shut, asked, "What was Cynthia -"
"Cindy," Original Cindy corrected.
"What is Cindy, queen of everything, driving?" he asked.
"A lime green, 2005, juiced up Lamborghini," Original Cindy said, letting the words roll off of her tongue. Normal opened one eye.
"Lamborghini?" he asked. He looked at Max. "Lamborghini?" Max nodded in the affirmative. "As much as I hate to say it - she won," he pointed to Cindy.
"How - why - what the hell?" CeCe blurted. "How'd she win?"
"I've got a Lamberghini," Cindy said simply. "That's code for 'enough money to sue all your asses if I'm displeased'."
It was just common sense.
"And unlike some people," Normal said, "I've actually got a job to do. Hot run! 4th and 6th!"
"Got my name all over it," one guy said, grabbing the package as he walked by. "Hey, Cindy." He winked.
"Druid, don't even be playin'. You know Original Cindy don't be shootin' to that goal," Cindy said coolly.
"So," Cindy said, collapsing on the couch at the Big Tacky Castle Next Door after a day including car crashes and angry blondes. "You met the bossiest person ever."
"He wasn't that bad," Max shrugged. OC's eyes bugged.
"'Not that bad?' You obviously haven't worked with him from four to seven each night," she said, shaking her head. She perked up, getting a thought. "That's the perfect thing."
"What?" Max asked. "Getting a job?"
"Getting a job at Jam Pony," Original Cindy corrected her.
"But, I don't have time," Max said. "School, cheer-squad, bubble baths..."
"Alec!" OC called. "Max wants to tell you something important!"
"I'll go apply now," Max decided, hopping up from the couch. Cindy grinned.
A/N: A lot of you (okay, like, two of you) were whining for Normal, so here he is.
Two quick things: 1) Someone will be kissed in, oh, say the next five or six chaptors; and 2) I'm trying to decide on whether to make a Kill Bill! Dark Angel Style or a Sin City! Dark Angel style (and just torture the poor souls who are crying over the lack of canon in this story more).
They'll both be like this story, virtually the same plot as the movies only with Dark Angel characters, only the Sin City one will have a Max/Alec ship, and the Kill Bill onewon't have any ships. Help out with the deciding process, please, people!
Coming up: Finally! A phone call from Logan! (And if I get more than three reviews in the next two hours, then I'll post the next chapter today while I'm still at the library.)